


A Bastion for the Hollow

by prosecutorpumpkin



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But only by a little, Conspiring with a side of getting laid, M/M, Porn With Plot, Pre-Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosecutorpumpkin/pseuds/prosecutorpumpkin
Summary: Braig thirsts for something more in his life. Master Xehanort happens to be the man who can give it to him.





	A Bastion for the Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do something a little self indulgent.

There was a good possibility that Braig would never know why he was chosen. Perhaps Master Xehanort had seen something special in those deep, dark eyes of his; the way they shone with a fire unique to those who wanted more and craved recognition. Perhaps he had seen the subtle way they narrowed even when he grinned; the sly way he took any and all opportunities to belittle his fellow apprentices in a feeble attempt to gain purchase. Perhaps the old Master had seen all of these little moments, had been observing long before Braig even knew his name.

 

All Braig knew was that his drastic shift in the path he took through life began with a smile, and a simple inquiry.

 

“Is it true there are laboratories within this castle?”

 

Braig had been covering a shift for Aeleus while the latter took his lunch, and was starting to daze off in the hot, naked sun. Black cloaked and yellow eyed, he hadn’t even noticed Master Xehanort’s approach despite how obvious it should’ve been...had he even walked? The startled guard took only a few seconds to blink away his confusion before answering with a cocky smile: “Sure is. Looking for the tour, Old Coot? ‘Cuz we don’t offer ‘em.”

 

As it turned out, the tour was not, in fact, what the man was looking for. The conversation had continued innocently— “Oh, what a shame. What sort of experiments go on in there?” “Some are classified, but most are just for the health of the people. I thought that was common knowledge by now or somethin’...” “I felt it would be wise to confirm. So then, there are biological experiments in there?” “Occasionally.” “And perhaps even those on the Heart?” “Well...Ansem has shown interest in doin’ those now and then...you ask a lot of questions, old man.”—and ended just as abruptly as it came.

 

Braig, whose interest had been piqued by those questions and the man who asked them, brushed it off as a one off novelty...that is, until the man came back the next day. And the next day. And the day after that. Every day, the man had said something interesting, something just intriguing enough that it left the guard wanting to know more. 

 

_ Other worlds? That was just a myth, right? Please, old man. _

 

_ Keyblade wielders? He had heard of the legends, but…those ARE just legends. _

 

_ Kingdom Hearts? Wasn’t that... _

 

A temporary distraction from the doldrums of work soon turned into fruited interest. Just as Braig thought he was getting bored of the old man’s theories, the old man — Xehanort — did something he had only seen the city’s dedicated wizard, Merlin, perform.

 

He produced a glorious, swirling magic flame in the palm of his hand.

 

“I see you’re intrigued,” Xehanort had said, chuckling briefly at the wonder in Braig’s eyes. “Come and chat with me once you are done with work, and perhaps I can speak to you about magic even more, if you are interested.”

 

The power had him captivated.

 

Soon, Braig was meeting with him on his lunch breaks and after hours. Soon, he was let in on a secret.

 

“I am interested in using your laboratory to delve a little deeper into the secrets of the Darkness, and of the Heart,” Xehanort had said one day, while they walked together beneath Radiant Garden’s rector. 

 

Braig laughed, and with an incredulous smirk, tossed an arm over Xehanort’s shoulder as if to shake him into sense.

 

“Seriously? C’mon, Xehanort, you know that’s illegal.”

 

Xehanort smiled easily, and glanced at the guard from under tilted brow. “Is it now? Last I checked, it was not as if you were fond of that Sage, Ansem, either way. Since when were you concerned about breaking his laws?”

 

In turn, Braig gave a playfully disgusted scowl and tossed his hand about as if to dismiss the question entirely.

 

“Got me there; couldn’t care less about the dude. But I can’t just go around helping any random old guy break into the castle—no offense, but we’re not that tight.”

 

“What if I could make it so that we were?”

 

The question gave Braig pause, and he quirked an eyebrow at the man tucked under his arm.

 

“Just what are you offering me, old coot?”

 

“Power.”

 

In one word, Braig felt as if Xehanort had pierced his heart. His ears suddenly rushed with blood, and a chill fell over him. Through a dry, cottony mouth, he forced another brief laugh.

 

“You think I’m power hungry…”

 

“Am I wrong?”

 

Was he so obvious? How did this man, who he had known for only a few short weeks, seem to see right through him? His heart pounded, and Braig glanced off to the side, breaking eye contact.

 

“Your disgust for your employer...everything from the way you carry yourself to the way you speak. You’ve been mistreated, haven’t you? Perhaps even shunned. Your talents have gone unappraised and left to rot. It is obvious you are quite the intelligent man...an Apprentice in your own right, you said.”

 

“You don’t have to butter me up, old man,” Braig said, but the heat rising to his face said otherwise.

 

It felt damn good.

 

Xehanort’s hand slid out from his own back, and rested on the small of Braig’s. He could feel how firm the old man’s grip was from even that gesture, and part of him was surprised at how large it was. Looking back into those sharp, golden eyes, he started to notice a peculiar captivating quality they had, filled with fire and youth and passion he had initially missed.

 

Braig swallowed, and added in another quip: “You sayin’ you can give me something he can’t?”

 

“You recall the legend of the Keyblade War, and of the heroes and villains who wielded those mystical blades of Light and Darkness?” Xehanort asked smoothly. Braig nodded.

 

The black cloaked man stepped away from Braig—and Braig noted, with mild shock, how he missed the warmth—and drawing himself up to a height that the guard was impressed Xehanort had managed to hide, summoned a savage looking weapon into the palm of his hand.

 

Jagged edges and sharp, intimidating teeth—second only to the intimidating and commanding aura Xehanort himself projected. Such a powerful, vast Darkness...it surpassed age, and attracted Braig on a deep and primal level. The guard wanted to step back, but stepped forward instead, drawn as a moth to flame. Some part of him even wanted to kneel at that power. But the vast majority of him wanted only one thing—to have it.

 

“You’re one of them,” he managed to gasp out after tearing his eyes away from the blade only to be caught in Xehanort’s strong gaze. “A Keyblade Wielder…are you offerin’ me...that?”

 

Xehanort’s shoulders shook in amused, even light laughter, and his smile was mysterious as the Keyblade disappeared.

 

“You would bring me down to the level of a mere Wielder? I am a Master, dear Braig. What I am offering you is not this Keyblade, not yet. Perhaps if you prove yourself worthy, I could see what I can do…”

 

The way he trailed off was a tease, and Braig’s stomach squirmed. The Keyblade...no doubt that’s a power not even Ansem could look down on him for. If he could have that...no, even if he could just stay close to Xehanort...the man with such a captivating power. The man who was offering to rescue him from a lifetime of being nothing but second best or not good enough.

 

His heart beat hard, urging him forward.

 

“Then what…?”

 

“Power,” Xehanort merely said once more, and Braig’s heart raced even more.

 

“Show me! Show me what you’re offerin’, old coot...I’ll believe it when I see it, and then...then I’ll take you wherever you want me to. Hah, I can’t...I can’t even believe  _ this _ …”

 

The Master stepped forward, and Braig, despite himself, and to his embarrassment, dropped to his knees at last. The Master’s hand was warm, and rushed with a Dark power as he laid it onto Braig’s shoulder. Braig closed his eyes instinctively and inhaled, finding himself absolutely enthralled.

 

“Magic can sometimes be bestowed upon people, should they show an affinity for it. Learning how to master it is a somewhat difficult process...but you  _ are _ an intelligent man, Braig. By far one of the most fascinating people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to...I feel as if I can trust you to prove yourself,” Xehanort purred. 

 

Braig wanted nothing more than to prove that man right.

 

“Yeah, yeah...if you give it to me…”

 

Xehanort laughed.

 

“My, you’re going to have to learn some respect. We will have to do our best to work on that, now won’t we? If you are to become my lieutenant…”

 

Braig opened his mouth to respond, but in a flash was quickly overwhelmed by some invisible, vibrating power that surged through Xehanort and into the guard, stiffening his entire body and rooting him to the spot. His mouth stretched open further as if to scream, but no words came...the moment ended as quickly as it began.

 

And Braig felt the ripples of power linger within him.

 

“What...did you do…?” He rasped.

 

“Simply bestow you with the power of the Stars. Lofty gifts for a promising man.”

 

Braig’s eyes stayed on the ground as a smile slowly started to form on his face, laughter boiling in his throat. And his heart, slowly sinking into Darkness, was coming to a realization…

 

...he was falling deeply…deeply...in love.

 

********

 

They had gone to chat inside of Braig’s barracks.

 

The small room, furnished with little more than a bed, a desk, and some haphazard shelving, was standard for the guard corps. For lack of enough chairs, the two decided to sit together on his bed, which Braig was beginning to feel a little self conscious about.

 

“Your plans are crazy, old coot, but that’s what’s got me hooked,” Braig said with a grin. “Somethin’ like that, I’m sure the prize has gotta be somethin’ huge.”

 

“Indeed it is. This entire world will be remade anew...and you, of course, will reap the rewards of such an ideal society.”

 

They had been discussing such high plans; sciences and balance, wars and resets—it was hard to keep up with at times, but he found himself drawn into the conversations Xehanort wove. Anything the older man said caught his breath. His heart ached for that power he had been promised...and for something even more.

 

“I’m still surprised that you picked me. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m glad you did. But if you’re right, ‘n there’s really all those worlds out there, then what I got was a one in a billion chance...probably more.”

 

Xehanort’s fiery eyes met Braig’s, and he smirked.

 

“None of them had quite the same qualities I had seen in you.”

 

“Qualities...huh…” Without meaning to, Braig was finding himself drawn in physically to the man sitting next to him, leaning in closer. Those eyes...the bright, golden eyes…

 

“The qualities of a man with a thirst for more, but who is still willing to submit.”

 

_ Submit _ . The word sent tingles through Braig’s groin, taking him aback. Generally, he hated the very notion...being below someone was what he was fighting against, what pushed him forward to begin with. But part of him...a very large part of him, he was beginning to understand...didn’t mind so much when it came to Xehanort...

 

Before his mind could catch up with his movements, Braig had leaned in and locked lips with Xehanort. A brief fear surged through him—what the hell, he was out of line, he was fucking up his chances, what the fuck would the Master do to him now—but the fear was quickly allayed when he found that Xehanort didn’t draw back, but pressed into the kiss.

 

For a moment, there was nothing but quiet shuffling and groaning from Braig as Xehanort moved to lay him down onto the bed. The Master observed Braig’s flushed face and the growing bulge in his trousers, and began to remove the other’s uniform piece by piece, laying a heated kiss on each inch of skin as it was exposed. Braig only lifted himself to briefly rummage around his bed for the bottle of lube he kept under there, and handed it off to the Master for him to start preparing himself.

 

“You’ve done well to submit to me.”

 

Such a husky, commanding voice did more to undress Braig than his own nakedness did. The guard’s legs were splayed open as he laid back, entirely bare, struggling to keep his expression easy, cocky. Experienced fingers massaged and danced up his thighs with a surgical precision, hiking them up around Xehanort’s still clothed hips; the older man’s top completely off, his pants undone only enough to free a hard, surprisingly impressive cock. 

 

Braig felt his skin prickle with anticipation as those sharp, golden eyes slid over his body, and for once he felt his words fade in his throat, able to do nothing more than grin and appreciate the sheer authority this man possessed. His own cock was heavy, already a bud of precum forming on his tip. Silently, he begged for Xehanort to move, to touch him just a little more, make him feel more important, make him feel like the trusted man he said he was—

 

And with an easy chuckle, as if Xehanort had read his mind—Braig wouldn’t put it past the almost scary amount of foresight the old coot had—he felt a single slick, cold finger press between taut cheeks, plunging in and out, stretching him open little by little. His hips bucked minutely; his dark brown eyes widened and narrowed as he let loose a gasp, as if he couldn’t decide whether to hold himself back or give in. As another finger found purchase inside him and scissored him open; that was enough to break the barrier and Braig groaned openly, hand scrambling to hold onto Xehanort’s shoulder as the old master’s grin widened.

 

“C’mon…” He managed to sputter out, almost absent mindedly. “I...I need you to…”

 

“You need a lot of things, don’t you, Braig?” Came the smooth reply, interrupting, and Braig, whose eyes had been unfocused with lust, sharpened again, meeting Xehanort’s. “You should learn to trust me a little more...and have patience that I will provide.”

 

Braig felt his face flush deeply, and shook as Xehanort plunged another finger in, deeper and deeper, almost finishing him with just that much. He wanted more; more of this, more of the intoxicating high Xehanort was granting him, the power, the freedom, the confidence; the way he made his heart flutter with just a look and his spirit soar with heady dreams.

 

When Xehanort removed those fingers, Braig couldn’t help but take note of how obvious that emptiness was, and how his body subtly lifted to beg for a way to fill it.

 

“I do...trust you,” he said past a heaving chest, and surprised himself as he did so; he sincerely meant those words...when did he ever sincerely mean anything…?

 

Xehanort’s eyes lowered, meeting Braig’s with a gentle expression, though that gaze still thrummed with an electrifying liveliness, and the rest of him followed after. Leaning in to kiss his loyal second, the younger man eagerly accepted, hungrily sliding his tongue over and under the other’s.

 

And then, with a single, hard thrust, Xehanort’s cock filled him up.

 

Braig broke the kiss to moan sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. He was so big, so  _ thick _ —he couldn’t understand why Xehanort was so dissatisfied with his body when it still performed so  _ well _ . His thoughts only solidified when Xehanort started to move; every thrust churned his insides; butterflies swirled within him. His ass squeezed pleasurably down on the master’s cock and it spurred Xehanort into digging his nails deep into Braig’s thighs, his sides, clawing up and down his skin wherever it could find purchase.

 

God, was he really eighty? Braig had never experienced such  _ power _ . His eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he barely registered the rough, wet smack of skin on skin, the pounding of his ass against Xehanort’s still firm body. So much  _ power _ , and he pledged himself eagerly to it; it was  _ his _ , and soon he would share even more of it. The Darkness, Xehanort, everything—he gave himself over to it with panting breaths and gyrating hips.

 

He was already sold, now; his mind was made, he was sure this was the path to everything he craved and more...when Xehanort moved to whisper something in his ear, it took a moment for his brain to truly absorb it...for him to realize how much he really, truly need to hear it.

 

“My beautiful, loyal vessel...I’ll make sure you won’t remain merely second best.”

 

Something within him burst; a rumbling feeling deep within his chest. He howled gleefully, interrupted with sharp, ecstatic moans. _ Yes, yes, YES! _ To be untouchable, to be in control, to dominate over others without competition; everything Xehanort had promised, everything he had desired. The importance he needed. To be wanted, appreciated, loved. Drool rolled out, and he couldn't catch his breath; fire filled him as he felt his smile grow.

 

“Thank you,” he muttered, as if dazed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…! Ngh…!”

 

He threw his head back as his back arched and stiffened, and his stretched, filled insides squeezed tightly around Xehanort, clenching desperately. He could feel Xehanort’s prideful gaze rip through him when he finally released his load in stringy, white spurts, roping over his stomach. He never wanted Xehanort to stop looking at him like that. Xehanort pulled back after a few more strong thrusts and added his release to Braig’s already painted figure, wiping his fingers over the warm, thick cum and spreading it over the guard’s torso with an appreciative look.

 

"...Master Xehanort," Braig panted out after a moment, breathless, softened. Xehanort stared briefly, before letting a smile spread on his face, acknowledging the rare verbal confirmation of his status, stroking Braig's sweat speckled jawline. 

 

“It’s about time you learned some respect.”

 

The younger man purred tiredly, and swallowed deeply as Xehanort pressed in to kiss him again, letting the master’s tongue completely overtake him, pressing their bodies together as sweat and cum intermingled between them.

 

None of this had been part of their plan.

 

Braig wasn’t particularly sure he minded.


End file.
